


Come A Little Closer

by SweetHavok



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Date Night, F/M, Funny, Ghostfacers - Freeform, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetHavok/pseuds/SweetHavok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your little date night with Dean isn't going as planned...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come A Little Closer

“This show is so stupid, they’re faking most of this shit,” Dean Winchester scoffed, arm slung around your shoulders as you two sat on the couch. You were watching Ghostfacers, much to your boyfriend’s disgust.

“Look, little miss Days of Our Lives, you lost the poker game and that meant I got to choose what we watch,” you snapped back, finger aimed at his chin. “So I don’t wanna hear anymore bitching, lest you wanna lose sex privileges for a week.” Dean made a bitch face but settled back against the couch some more. Meanwhile, you turned your wide eyed gaze back to the TV. Harry and Ed had just entered an abandoned orphanage, where they announced their background digging had found that headmistress had been selling orphans to an insane doctor for experimentation.

You had been dating the one and only Dean Winchester for three months. Everyone, including Dean himself, had warned you against him. But that had done nothing but spur you on more.

“He’s a heartbreaker!”

“Dean? Man-whore. Plain and simple.”

“He never settles… you’re looking for trouble.” All empty words to you. You were, afterall, your mother’s daughter. Hard-headed, strong-willed, sarcastic, and a pinch of sweetness. Which seemed to go perfectly with keeping his attitude in check.

“Y/N….” Your eyes were wide as you remained glued to the screen, gasping as the camera whirled around at a sudden noise that sounded like a ball bouncing. An eerie child’s laugh wafted through and you squeaked in terror.

YOU. SQUEAKED. YOU!! You who hunted demons, who salted and burned the remains of vengeful ghosts. It made no sense. Dean found it endearing and teased you mercilessly about it.

“Y/N?” Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, pulse racing as the Ghostfacers walked into the room with all the crude cots.

“Children slept here… OPRHANED children,” Harry whispered dramatically as he looked back into the camera.

“Children with no parents, no other family,” Ed confirmed. Beside you, Dean stifled a groan.

“Poor children…” You whispered, eyes stinging with unshed tears. Beside you, Dean rolled his eyes.

“If you can hear me, I’m getting a beer.” He muttered, padding into the kitchen. You didn’t even acknowledge him, you were too engrossed in your guilty pleasure. You watched as the Ghostfacers investigated the rooms of the orphanage, using EMF meters and other gadgets. Suddenly, the lights went off. You shrieked and jumped up.

“Dean?!” You shouted, clutching the throw pillow on the couch for dear life. You heard shuffling and your stomach dropped. You grabbed your knife from under the coffee table and slowly backed into a wall. “Dean!” You tried again, feeling your heart pound in your chest. Something banged outside and a jolt of fear ripped through you. Hesitantly, you crept towards the back door of the house, where the noise had come from. You reached for the doorknob and froze as it turned of its own accord, then swung open.  
You screamed wildly, dropping your knife and turning to run. Two strong, calloused hands grabbed your shoulders, but they were in front of you!

“Y/N!” You heard someone shouting your name, but you flailed wildly against your captor as you felt fabric on your face. You gasped and fought more desperately.

“Y/N!!” Dean shouted, and you bolted up in your bed, eyes wide and skin clammy. You looked around quickly, hyperventilating as Dean watched you, hand rubbing your back.

“You all right, sweetheart?” He asked softly, and you turned to look up at him. His green eyes, though tired, seemed brighter in the dim light of the bedroom you shared together, and you could see the worry written in his features.

“Y-yeah… yeah, I’m okay,” you replied hoarsely, licking your lips. You felt your pulse returning to normal as you sighed.

“Nightmares again?” Dean moved hair off your forehead and behind your ear as you nodded. He chuckled and you pouted.

“What’s so funny?” You whined.

“Every single time Y/N…” He started.

“Oh no, don’t!” You groaned.

“Every single time we watch Ghostfacers, YOU have nightmares,” he continued, a playful smirk on his face. “You, a big bad ass hunter with more kills than most.”

“Dean stop making fun of me,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and sinking down against the pillows. Without warning, your cat Binks jumped through the open window and hissed, and you screamed a little. The feline streaked out of the room and you whimpered.

“Aw baby, come on…” Dean’s teasing attitude was replaced with a sympathetic one and he scooted over. “Come a little closer, sweetheart. I’m sorry I teased you.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap, cradling you close. You sniffled and relaxed into his embrace, feeling his hand stroke your hair.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, chest rumbling. “Before we go back to bed, I wanna do something to make it up to you. What do you want to do tomorrow?” You thought for a few moments before it suddenly dawned on you.

“Can we order in lots of takeout and buy some beer?” You asked meekly.

“Sure thing doll, why?” He looked down at you. You shifted a bit and looked away innocently.

“There’s a Ghostfacers marathon all day tomorrow…” Dean dropped his head back against the headboard and groaned.


End file.
